
THE DISCIPLE’S PRAYER
BY MARK RANDALL POWELL
It seems axiomatic that people on the Jesus-way often struggle with the idea of prayer. Not with the idea that one should pray, most of us agree there. But, rather, the how of prayer? That is, how do we pray? And more importantly, how do we clear time out of the rough and tumble of daily life in order to make this kind of room for God?
In some ways, I have it most easy. My vocation and my occupation concur, allowing me to spend as much time as I want in prayer. This is not true of the person on the Jesus-way who has a normal occupation. But, then again, this may not be altogether an accurate statement either. That is, within normal occupations there may actually be time to clear out space for God as well, depending upon how we, in fact, define the act of prayer.
Back in the day, my teachers taught me that prayer was asking, and although this may seem odd now, this is actually a distant perspective, at least as far back as the mighty theologian St. Thomas Aquinas who defined prayer as petition.
Interestingly, Agnes Cunningham, in her book, Prayer--Personal and Liturgical, tells us that when looking for an ancient definition of prayer, say from the church fathers, those concepts of prayer will have derived from prayer itself, rather than descriptive statements about prayer.
I rather like this perspective because it means that prayer is defined by those actually caught in the act. Or, said another way, this approach (which I do not mean to imply is Sister Cunningham's) releases us from the friction of demand when it comes to prayer, opening instead for us a more lubricated approach to what may be the single most important act someone on the Jesus-way can achieve.
I define prayer as anything I do that brings my focus to God's reality.
This may be as ancient as the practice of lectio divina (http://www.centeringprayer.com/lectio.htm), or as modern as perceiving the Christ through some rock worship song, for both carry the possibility of enabling the believer to focus on God.
Of course, there are different forms of prayer. There is the practice of intercession. This form of prayer is when we act as a go-between God and someone else. Typically, we pray for a special need that we see in their life. This can be a self-identified need, but it doesn’t have to be.
Another form of prayer is petition. This is what most people typically think of as prayer because this is the form of prayer when we lay our own personal needs before the listening LORD. Some people are intimidated by this movement of prayer because it can feel somewhat selfish. And this can actually be the case. Remember St. James’ indictment of his readers:
And yet the reason you don't have what you want is that you don't ask God for it. And even when you do ask, you don't get it because your whole motive is wrong you want only what will give you pleasure. (James 4:2b-3)
But, the prayer of petition can also be a prayer of faith, acknowledging our need and God’s provision.
There is also the form of prayer called praise and gratitude. It is in this prayer that we answer God’s worth and work. It is here that we offer the most important admission, that we are not little gods, making our way and working our plans without any divine benevolence.
The final form of prayer is the prayer of contemplation. Actually, I hesitate to call this form of prayer by this name because the word has such a complicated history and practice. Further, the standards for this prayer practice are quite high indeed, with recent advocates such as Thomas Merton.
Over the centuries Christian believers have practiced a form of prayer that attempts to open them to the touch of the LORD’S presence. Not in the sense of a “burning bush,” but instead in a way that changes the field of prayer from cognitive mentality, where we concentrate, think hard thoughts, and speak our mind to God, instead to a field of communication that is quiet and often quite brittle.
In this form of prayer we open ourselves to the Spirit of the risen Jesus. That is, believing that Jesus is alive, we open ourselves, our spirit, to the presence, will, touch, and opinion of the Spirit-of-Jesus-alive. In this prayer our whole person becomes quiet, and in this silence, which includes an inner silence, we intend to open ourselves to the LORD. And it is this intention that is the key to this form of prayer. That is, there are many ways to work toward this condition of quietness, where our thoughts are quiet and our concerns are quiet, but it is built, no matter what method we use, upon our intention to meet with the LORD, on our intention to be open to his gaze, and our intention to offer ourselves to him.
Perhaps the best description for now to the prayer practice I am attempting to describe is what I would call the prayer of the disciple. That is, the prayer form of contemplation and quiet on which I am working is a prayer that leads us to a series discipleship. This prayer opens to the disciple the internal healing and harmony provided by the in-working Spirit-of-Jesus-alive, as he touches his follower.
Think of it in this way. This prayer offers the person on the Jesus-way the communion and fellowship of the Spirit, but it does not offer some sort of religious experience, not in what we usually think of as religious anyway. What I mean is, there is no external sign-gifts at work here. No tongue speaking. No prophecy, only quietness, gentleness and openness.
To be sure, as one prays the prayer of the disciple one may experience some sort of rest and peace, but that is all, until later. Later, as one looks back, one sees that discipleship has occurred. One notices that the Christ has somehow brought a little more healing, a little more obedience, a little more spiritual muscle to follow the his ways and his words.
But, there was no blustering, no rushing mighty winds, no blissful waves of liquid love pouring over one's psyche. There was only quiet and peace and gentleness, which it turns out was the subtle touch of Jesus.